Why I hate haunted houses.

A few weeks ago, I was out to dinner with friends and one was rather adamant that we visit a haunted house. I ended up winning that battle because I was not the only one who wasn't into the whole "haunted house" scene, but still, it can be embarrassing to admit the real reason why I hate haunted houses. Well, there are two reasons, actually.

Reason One: I had two really bad experiences when I was younger. I remember my friend's eight birthday party. We had pizza at her house, then her mom threw us all in the back of her minivan and took us to the nearest haunted house. There was a huge line, so we all joined the line. I remember feeling nervous, but not overly scared. We had been in line for a few minutes when I heard a huge RIIIIIP behind me. I jumped, turned around and see one of the monsters from the haunted house RIPPPING on a chain saw. RIGHT BEHIND MY NEWLY EIGHT YEAR OLD SELF!!! (Yes, I say newly because I had been seven three weeks before.) Of course, I began sobbing and refused to go in any other haunted houses that night.

Maybe the next year, my parents insisted on taking me and my brother on a haunted train ride. I am fairly certain she thought that I had exaggerated my previous experience and was being a "diva" and that I would be able to handle this. (ME? A diva? Unthinkable!!!!)  This involved going through a shed with monsters in it, banging on the train with...you guessed it...chain saws and other heavy poles. It was so cold that I was wearing a snow cap. My way of coping with that experience was pulling it over my eyes and just not seeing it. At one point, I felt one of the "monsters" reach in the train car and grab my ankle. (My mom insists that I made this up in the midst of my terror, but I swear it happened.) To make matters worse, the train BROKE in after the first shed and the MONSTERS had to help push the train car up the hill so we could get out.

Two HORRIBLE experiences, no?

Reason Two: (I suspect this is the real reason I cannot tolerate haunted houses.) I am still afraid of the dark to some extent. I remember being young and unable to sleep, or even move in my bed, because I was certain that there was a ghost waiting there for me if I flipped over to the other side. There were always monsters in my closet and under my bed. To this day, if I sleep alone, I do a "walk-through" of my apartment to make sure I am in fact alone and safe to go to sleep. I might not have the same paralysis due to fear as I once did, but I still remember my youthful fright.

Moral of this story? DO NOT ASK ME TO GO TO A HAUNTED HOUSE. I will say no.

(I will, however, carve pumpkins, dress up for Halloween and drink spiked cider. I'm not a fun-hater of all fall things. I swear.)